


blood sugar

by slotumn



Series: Bittersweet: Lysithea Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cakeverse, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Implied Blood Drinking, Implied Cannibalism, Mild Horror, Organ Theft, i mean no shit theres cannibalism in the tags, idk - Freeform, implied gore, lysithea week, no actual knowledge of cakeverse required, or is it just regular horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slotumn/pseuds/slotumn
Summary: What happened that night was a mistake, she decided. Some sort of stress-induced hallucination. Of course there was no logical way human flesh could taste like sweets on its own.But if it could,she found herself wondering.If it could.---In which Lysithea finds an unexpected source of sweetness.
Relationships: Lysithea von Ordelia/Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth & Lysithea von Ordelia
Series: Bittersweet: Lysithea Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044072
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: Lysithea Week 2020





	blood sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Short explanation on [Cakeverse](https://jjsy0829.postype.com/post/1247968):  
> -Some people are "Forks," who lose their ability to taste at a certain point in their life. There's nothing wrong with their nerves/tongue, medically, but they can't taste anything— except for "Cakes."  
> -"Cakes" are another strange subset of population who, to Forks, taste like different kinds of sweets— every part of them, from their bodily fluids to flesh and bones. Also they themselves don't have a way to figure out that they're Cakes; it takes a Fork to tell them apart.  
> -Forks feel an overwhelming urge/impulse to eat the Cakes, as they're the only things they can taste, and many Cakes end up being victims of freak crimes by Forks. 
> 
> And that's how the prompt "sweets" turned into "Lysithea commits cannibalism."

It was like end of the world when Lysithea realized she couldn't taste anything. 

Her only respite from neverending stress in her short, tiring life— the heavenly sweetness of cake— was _gone_.

At first she'd hoped it was a temporary thing, a side effect of those excessive all-nighters; surely it would fade after a few days of rest and forcing herself to ingest vegetables, which she couldn't taste now, at least, so that was a silver lining. 

She hoped for two months. 

* * *

Nobody could sleep after Gronders. 

Some hit dummies at the training ground late into the night, others stared at the ceiling of the same dorm rooms they used to occupy as students, a few prayed at the cathedral for both the dead and the alive. 

Lysithea lingered in the library, staring at the words on pages without reading them.

Of all things to think about, she recalled the passing rumors about Dimitri being unable to taste anything from their academy days, and wondered whether that had anything to do with him turning into the unhinged berserker they fought earlier. 

_If it did, then he held out pretty long,_ she thought. 

Then, something impossible. 

"Up late again, huh."

An unmistakably sweet aroma drifted her way. 

Lysithea stood up to turn around towards the source, dazed. Claude was standing there, sure enough, but the scent couldn't have been from him. She knew how he smelled— soft and subtle and earthy, not overwhelmingly sweet, like the one invading her senses right now. 

But when she stumbled into his arms, the saccharine sweetness filled her head, fogging up her thoughts and grinding every gear to a halt. 

_Need to— need to taste RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW—_

The next thing she knew, they were pressed against a bookshelf, his lips, teeth, saliva, and tongue all tasting exactly like his new scent on her tongue. 

_Sweet._

"Uh, Lysithea...?"

She heard Claude's voice once they parted, but it was so distant; replying to him was a waste of time, surely, so she just ripped the collar open, revealing the flesh of his neck, which would be so easy to bite into—

" _Lysithea._ "

—a pair of hands on her shoulders separated them, and she finally looked up to see a shocked, flustered face, complete with green eyes wide open in panic. 

Under any other circumstances, _that_ would have been the most memorable thing from the night. 

Several surreal seconds later, Claude cleared his throat, blinking a few times to restore his neutral expression.

"...Okay, okay, look, we're all stressed, and I know there must be a lot on your mind right now, but—"

 _Shut up_ , she thought, pushing forward and covering his mouth with her own once more.

There was only one thing on her mind, and it was that she needed this sweetness again, no matter what it took.

* * *

The next few weeks went on as usual— dull, repetitive, dry, _tasteless_. 

Lysithea didn't slack on doing her part, of course; she was an expert an enduring, if nothing else, and even without sweets as motivation, the years of hard work didn't go anywhere.

And she avoided Claude.

What happened that night was a mistake, she decided. Some sort of stress-induced hallucination. Of course there was no logical way human flesh could taste like sweets own its own.

 _But if it could,_ she nonetheless found herself wondering. 

_If it could,_ she thought, flipping through a medical encyclopedia on anaesthetics, sedatives, the amount of blood a person could lose without dying, and more.

If she hadn't let him run away that night. 

If she could have held him down, bitten in, torn off chunks of flesh and blood to hold in her mouth.

Would that have been as sweet as the kiss?

* * *

The feast after Fort Merceus was held in an attempt to get everyone's morales up before the siege on Enbarr. It appeared to be working well enough, judging by the drunk, giggly chatters and laughter from the Ordelia Sorcery Co. 

"Is something wrong, young mistress?" asked one of the senior warlocks, face red and eyebrows knitted in concern. "You've barely touched any of the cake."

Lysithea shook her head. "Oh, I'm quite alright. Just not particularly hungry."

Her eyes were fixed down the table, where Claude was bantering and arguing with Lorenz while Leonie and Hilda encouraged them. All four of them were drunk, Claude more so than the other three, judging by how he nearly tripped over nothing and had to cling onto the edge of the table to keep his balance. 

"...If you'll excuse me," she said, giving a little bow before turning towards his direction.

Behind her, some of the mages giggled, saying something like, "Go for it, young miss!"

She appreciated the encouragement, even if they had the wrong idea.

* * *

"...Really thought you...hated me or something for a while there, ahaha...but you know, even though I tease you a lot, I..."

Claude's weight hung heavy over her, as did the stench of alcohol. He was rambling about this and that and on how he felt about her— saying things that would have turned her into a blushing mess a few months ago. 

"...ran away, but...couldn't stop thinking about you, after that..."

Now, the words barely registered. 

When they finally stumbled into her room and onto the bed, she kissed him— _tasted_ him— until both of them were out of breath. 

"Well, you're in luck," Lysithea whispered, stroking his hair, "since I couldn't stop thinking about you, either."

Technically, it wasn't a lie.

Once Claude fell asleep with a relieved smile, she tiptoed to her drawer to take out her recently accumulated collection of syringes and scalpels and vials. 

* * *

* * *

Byleth wandered to the kitchen, still hungover from the previous night's feast, but not that hungover. She'd promised to cook for the army with Claude that morning— hopefully something that can help with all those hangovers, she thought, pushing the door open. 

Much to her surprise, Lysithea was there, busy cooking something on the frying pan. 

"P-Professor! Good morning," she greeted, motions unusually jumpy. 

"Good morning," Byleth replied, then upon remembering that Claude went with Lysithea the previous night, asked, "What happened to Claude?"

Lysithea fidgeted and avoided eye contact as she said, "He's, um, still knocked out from last night."

Ah, so it was like that.

"Because he drank too much, I mean!" she quickly added. "He's not in a state to make it to the cafeteria, so I decided to make breakfast for both of us and bring it back. Really, that man can be such a handful..."

Byleth nodded, figuring she'd just have to cook on her own this morning. She could ask Lysithea to help, but surely the newly-formed couple would want to spend some more time together. 

Inconvenience aside, though, it was nice to see her youngest student so lively again; the past few months had been difficult on everyone, but Lysithea, with her fragile health, clearly had a harder time than most, barely reacting even when invited to a tea party with her favorite treats.

"What are you making?" Byleth asked, taking an apron from the wall hanger.

"Liver and blood soup, with tomato juice."

"And for dessert?"

Lysithea hummed alongside the sizzle of the pan, a happy smile on her face— the same one sweets always brought forth.

"Those won't be necessary."

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, she didn't kill him. She just took some blood and a part of his liver while he was sleeping.
> 
> If you're 18+ and interested in spicier content for these two, check out the [Lysiclaude NSFW Bingo](https://twitter.com/lysiclaudensfw?s=09)!  
>   
> [Join the Lysiclaude Discord!](https://discord.gg/GZmtGbw) (Adults only for ease of moderation, please note.)  
>   
> Feel free to leave prompts/suggestions on my [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/slotumn)!  
>   
> [My twitter](https://twitter.com/slotumn?s=09)  
> 


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